


Thoughts or Prayers?

by dearcst



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Humor, Kinda, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Prayer!Kink, prayers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 03:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1803604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearcst/pseuds/dearcst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prayers are complicated to understand, after all, they are essentially thoughts. Every thought Dean has directed or about Castiel is definitely received, and very distracting. And when Castiel mistakes a thought for a prayer, he flies in ready for battle to a scene he really wished he never saw. Well, he tried to tell himself that anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thoughts or Prayers?

Thoughts or Prayers

 

                Prayers were a tricky thing. After all, there were billions upon billions of prayers every second, and how do you tell who is praying to whom? Filtering out prayers from thoughts is a bit difficult, but it all normally comes down to the tone of the person who is praying. Angels hear every prayer, no matter who the prayer is meant for, but more the person uses your name, the stronger—the louder—you will hear the prayer.  Prayers are similar to thoughts, if not the same. Some are spoken, some are merely thought in the mind, and angels hear all of them.

                Now, since not many humans actually _meet_ angels, not many people will think of a specific angel even when they aren’t praying. But Dean wasn’t exactly “most humans.” It seemed innocent enough, and Dean had no idea Castiel could always hear his smallest, quietest thoughts as if he’d screamed them, because he did. Dean’s soul was incredibly hot and burning, and his mind racing. His thoughts were loud even when he didn’t mean for them to be.

                The first time it happened, Castiel was exorcising a demon. He flinched as he heard his name faintly; going into battle mode, only to realize it wasn’t a prayer. The tone was not desperate or asking of anything. It was just… wondering.

                _I wonder what Cas does when he poofs away._

                The words were soft and drifted by so quickly that Castiel was unsure whether or not he heard right. It was Dean, wasn’t it? He shook his head. It was only natural for humans to be curious of the unknown.

                “Am I not entertaining enough for you, spacey?” spat the demon in front of him and he realized he never finished the exorcism.

                Castiel’s eyes narrowed dangerously and the demon’s vessel’s glowed until it erupted with a bright light and fell limp. Castiel pushed the body back to the ground and stood up as normal. It wasn’t like him to get so distracted. He was probably just caught off guard by the thought; he’d never heard a thought of him. A prayer, sure, but an actual thought… Before he could dwell on it long enough, he heard a presence behind him.

                “Hey, Angel Bitch,” sneered another demon as it launched itself at him.

                Castiel easily blocked the attack and pressed his fingers to her temple. There was another flash of light before Castiel decided he’d grown bored of harmless, mindless attacks on him. There was the slight displacement of air, fluttering of wings, and obsolete atmosphere.

~~*~~

                The second time Castiel heard Dean’s thoughts, it was a fair week after the first.  Castiel wasn’t doing anything in particular, simply walking when he stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of Dean’s voice again.

                _I wonder if he likes pie._

                There was no doubting who “he” was; not even Castiel could be so oblivious. Silently answering the thought, Castiel thought to himself that he was not human so he hadn’t eaten pie before. Dean seemed keen on it, so it’s only reasonable to view the desert as desirable.

                And after a while, the thoughts had started firing at Castiel more and more often. Whether he was alone, with a friend, an enemy, he found himself bombarded with meaningless little fragments of thoughts all from Dean.

                _He’s so stiff. I wonder if he needs a massage._

_I wonder what he’d look like with blond hair._

_Has he ever gotten a piercing or a tattoo?_

_Jeez dude, stop staring so much. Wouldn’t that make you nervous? Should I stare at you for hours? Not blink?_

_Don’t look at me like that. God I’ll just—_

_I’m so bored.  If Sam won’t let me drink tonight at least let me ask Cas to come over._

                Castiel hesitated, not knowing whether to answer the last thought. It wasn’t actually a request, so he didn’t feel right about just flying over unannounced. He didn’t go.

And day after day the thoughts just kept flooding in, getting greater in number the more days that passed. Castiel was torn between feeling uncomfortable and looking forward to the little thoughts. He wasn’t sure how to react to them, really, especially since Dean acted no different than ever when they were in person.

                He decided to leave it alone unless Dean brought it up. Key word being: _decided_. Believe it or not, it’s difficult to pay no attention to thoughts like _Were your eyes always so blue?_ and as of recently _Your breath smells different_. _I like it._

                Oh, and the most recent addition to the list: _Damn if you don’t take a step back I’ll kiss you_ and after thinking this, Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably and promptly excused himself from the room. Castiel wasn’t planning on stepping back anyways.

                The thoughts were soon outnumbering the prayers, not that they didn’t come.

                _Cas, we’re really stumped on this case, and people keep dying. We can’t find anything in any book, so get your ass down here._

                Relieved for a prayer and not another unsettling (if that’s even the right word for it) thought, Castiel appeared nearly immediately.

                “Hey, Cas,” Sam greeted him first.

                Dean’s eyes followed him a fraction of a second longer than they probably should have _I know you don’t shave, but that stubble is getting way too damn sexy for you to keep it_ before he cleared his throat again (a habit he’d gotten into) and motioned for Sam to explain the situation.

                Castiel involuntarily reached a hand to his chin, the pads of his fingers running over his unshaved skin.

                “Okay so, there has been seven deaths so far this week, one a day, they’re all at 2:12 AM , they all are nearly saved and then die in the ambulance. There’s not a trace of sulfur, but some of the—“

                _Does Cas wear cologne or did he always smell like that?_

                He heard Dean inhale deeply again. Castiel shifted his weight onto his other foot. He hadn’t done anything to enhance his physical appearance or presence and—when was Dean’s hand so close to his? Castiel’s finger moved subtly and bumped into Dean’s hand, making both of them jump.

                “What do you think Cas?”

                Castiel blinked at Sam, realizing embarrassedly that he wasn’t paying much attention and— _I wonder if he would take his hand away if I tried to hold_ _it_ — where were we again?

                “Cas?”

                Castiel took a few steps away from Dean in efforts to clear his mind.

                “I’ll take a look,” he responded evenly and immediately disappeared.

                It didn’t take less than seventeen seconds to search the entire town for any signs of supernatural creatures and return to Dean. And Sam, of course.

                “It’s called a Vanatria. It’s a monster normally found in Croatia. I’m not sure how it got over here, but I suspect it has something to do with the family that just moved in from Europe. I suspect the entire family are Vanatrais. They can only be slain by a willow stake to the heart.”

                Sam gave a nod and a quick “thanks” before returning to his laptop to search for a willow tree.

                Castiel turned around, not expecting Dean to be so close. Wasn’t he the one that taught him about personal space? Were the exceptions to the rule? Dean’s eyes focused on Castiel’s lips for a moment and Castiel could hear a single thought screaming and echoing.

                _I want to kiss you_.

                Castiel felt heat rushing to his face. When did he ever blush? He could tell Dean took note of the action since his next thought was _God you adorable little blushing angel_.

                Sam cleared his throat from the computer, giving both of them odd looks.

                “When you guys are done having eye sex, can we go get a willow stake?”

~~*~~

                It wasn’t long before the innocent, wondering thoughts turned down a different path. As Castiel was away he could hear Dean’s thoughts of how (he still had trouble picturing Dean seeing him as this, but,) _sexy_ he was, or how much he wanted to kiss him, and even a few weeks past that, wanted to—

                The thoughts would zoom past Castiel quickly yet effectively, and to say they distracted him was an understatement. His average duties he got done was cut down by a fourth, being interrupted by a mindless thought, and sometimes a bit past that.  They ranged from _Would Cas like this movie?_ to _I want to screw his brains out_ , leaving him a sputtering, shocked mess.

                He thought he’d get used to it after a while, but he couldn’t ignore how his grace and vessel alike felt on fire when he received a message like that. And somehow, it was a good kind of fire. No he didn’t like the thoughts at all. Lust was sin. Definitely. He did _not_ —all right, lying was also a sin. It’s just that whenever he heard something along those lines from Dean’s melodious mind, images sprang into his mind. Images he tried to completely block out, but no matter how hard he tried, his imagination got the best of him.

                Even a few times he found himself wanting to kiss Dean.

                But it wasn’t until that particular night that fate washed upon the pair.

                Castiel was doing God knows what when he heard the prayer. A prayer, not a thought.

                _Cas_ …  Castiel could tell from the tone of desperation. What was wrong? What was happening? But he didn’t have much time to wonder or even flash over before the next one came, even louder and more desperate, singed with emotion.

_Castiel!_

Without wasting a moment, he flashed over, face the image of detest at whatever was trying to hurt his Dean to make him pray with that tone of voice. Archangel blade in hand, he readied himself then—

It didn’t make much sense. The room was dimly lit, and it was empty. Not even Sam was in the room at the moment. Had someone taken Sam already? Rage filled Castiel. Then he heard a drawled out moan and soft pants.

“Cas…” the same voice, but this time aloud. Another moan.

Confusion was swimming through Castiel’s eyes. He saw no threat. Just a shaded figure on Dean’s bed and— _Oh_.

                Dean’s face was flushed, his lips parted and his eyes nearly shut. His breath was thick and layered as he whispered Castiel’s name again. The angel forced his eyes away, merely to keep from moving down to see his fingers curled around— _Oh God, I didn’t mean to look. Honest_. Maybe not so.

                Castiel found himself staring, unable to look away, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, frozen. He saw Dean open his eyes just a bit before they snapped open all the way.

                “ _Cas?_ Shit, what are you—“ his voice was still hoarse as he scrambled to throw a blanket over himself. “How long have you—“

                Castiel found himself interrupting without meaning to. “I-I thought you—It… That wasn’t a prayer?” he sputtered out.

                “What?”

                Dean only blinked and Castiel was gone.

~~*~~

                _Cas, come back._

_Seriously, man, I’m not mad or anything._

_Can’t we just talk about this? Zap your ass here, Cas._

_Stop avoiding me, dammit!_

_It’s been four days isn’t that enough? You’re being childish, baby-in-a-trench-coat._

The prayers now outnumbered the thoughts. Every other hour Dean would send a short prayer for Castiel to come back, and he was right about Castiel being childish. Really, Castiel didn’t know if he could look at him without seeing those lust-clouded eyes and reddened cheeks in dimmed lights merge into reality. God knows he’s thought about it way too many times and his vessel was reacting to the images.

_Castiel. I’m serious . We’re talking. Do I need to summon you?_

                Castiel sighed at that one. It would be easier and more comfortable to fly over on his own will.

                So, as Dean turned around again Castiel stood behind him somewhat nervously. Their eyes met in the same electrifying way as always, somehow writing a novel in their eyes alone. They stood less than four feet away from each other. Three as Dean took a step forwards.

                Castiel’s eyes were consumed with desire and it clawed its way out, beckoning for Dean to come and fulfill him. Without realizing it Castiel licked his lips, and that’s really was set Dean off.

                In some unspoken signal, they launched themselves at each other, pressing against each other and kissing roughly and passionately. Dean’s hands gripped Castiel’s hair and Castiel found his arms wrapped around Dean’s torso, moving around aimlessly in search of an anchor. Kissing turned to licking and biting as both tried in desperation to make up for all the months they’d dreamed of this moment. Teeth clashed, but neither of them cared.

                “Like what you saw?” Dean muttered against Castiel’s lips, the words coming out slurred and nearly indistinguishable.

                “Yes,” Castiel’s response was clearer, yet his voice was deeper and heavier.

                “Want to see it again?”

                “ _Yes_.”


End file.
